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Story : In the deep forest
Back to The road to Hockstow Forest The Burned Out Clearing :April 19-20 1220 Exploring the forest had proven difficult. Even with Eirlys's ability to take to the skies, they had trouble. It was easy to lose one's orientation in the wood, and sight was limited by what little light found its way through the canopy and trees blocking the view at every turn. The first few glades they had been directed to turned out to simply be where an old tree had fallen down, taking some of its neighbours with it. The floor of clearings was filled with dense foliage competing for sunlight with young saplings. A larger clearing proved to be the result of human activity. There were signs that some sort of camp had lingered here for some time, possibly a couple of years, but had been abandoned in the past year. The forest had still not reclaimed a large blackened ashy circle where a number of the surrounding trees had met their end. Eirlys moved somberly among the ashen remains of the fallen trees, placing her hands on each stump she could find, and saying a few words quietly over each one. As she did so, Sandor stowed his weapons and slowly walked about, his eyes focused on the ground. Many times he stopped and knelt, brushing away the soot and soil. Sometimes he picked up an object, most of the times he did not. Those times that he did, he dropped it into the money pouch at his waist, secured it, and began the process anew. By the time that Eirlys had finished bidding the trees fare-thee-well, he had made several deposits. When he saw that she was done, he returned to her side , his hammer once again in his hands. Aloysius quickly spotted that there was only one path into the clearing, and it appeared to lead directly out of the wood. "Try to remember this location, my friend," she requested. "I'd like to return here when I have studied more, and am better equipped to help this place recuperate." As evening turned to night, the group stopped to make camp. Eirlys was vehement in insisting that no fires be burned. She quietly ate some mutton jerky, and dried pears. After eating, she and Aloysius played about, chasing each other, hiding behind tree trunks, and jumping about in a quite undignified manner. Once a watch rotation was set, she settled down onto a mossy bank and curled up into a ball, cradling her polecat friend in her arms. Over breakfast the next morning, Eirlys addressed Longinus: "Sodalis, my pater has always insisted that I wear clothing when at Tribunal, or dealing with others who are like to have their sensibilities offended by my bare flesh. However, as we suspect we may be dealing with other fae, it would be quite unseemly for me to be cloyed with wool or silk. I hope you would not mind if I proceed through the rest of our journey unhindered by these ghastly garments." Longinus paused, choking, his eating bowl suspended in mid-air in front of him. Thumping his chest with one arm he gasped "Do as you see fit Maga. I will strive to put aside any offense I may or may not feel." Pleased, Eirlys removed her woolen shift and danced about the clearing, obviously relieved to be skyclad once more, while Aloysius clucked his approval. It was toward lunchtime on the second day as they headed toward possibly their twelfth clearing, when Longinus noticed that the trees seemed to be getting larger. Eirlys was rather accustomed to seeing impressively large trees, which if anything, formed one of the more mundane things she had seen in the faerie regios she had visited. It wasn't so much the width of the trunks that struck Longinus as odd, but rather the general scale of the tree, the height of the lowest branches, the size of the leaves. It was hard to put his finger on, but they just seemed a bit too big, and as they progressed further into the wood, his doubt faded as the increasing size of the trees stretched the notion that they might be quite ordinary beyond the point of credibility. The Ring :April 20 1220 As they were advancing through the wood, an uneasy feeling settled upon them that they were being observed discreetly. Looking about at the trees, nothing could be seen amidst the branches, or lurking amidst the ferns and leaf litter of the forest floor. Suddenly, from up ahead, Aloysius's voice cried out in surprise, and pain. The undergrowth was knee deep, and a few metres ahead it dipped as it encountered what looked like an old ditch which crossed their path. "Aly!" Eirlys rushed to her friend's side. Seeing him all in one piece, she gathered him up in her arms and rubbed his red little nose soothingly. "Be careful, love... I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you." He grinned crookedly. "Well, SOMEONE has to keep his eyes open around here. Anyway, I found something." With one paw, he gestured towards the place his nose got tweaked. "There's something invisible there. I bumped into it just now." Cautiously Longinus moved forward to the edge of the ditch. "Something invisible you say?" His head sinks deeper into the shadows of his hood for some time and then a small pebble rises and floats towards the place where Aloysius gestured. In between testing the ward Longinus moves close beside Eirlys. "Maga Eirlys. Two questions for you if I may, since it is clear that the forest is more your province than mine. First, about the trees hereabout. I'm not expert, but they do seem impossibly large. Is there any import in that." Eirlys rose to her hooves and peered up into the air. "They're fairly large, but nothing out of the ordinary, I don't think." She approached the nearest tree and placed her hand on its broad, steadfast trunk. "Trees can grow quite enormous, when humans don't come along with their iron axes and torches." Longinus paused for a moment as if thinking. "And secondly, would a small controlled fire be amiss to clear out the foliage from this ditch?" The fey girl gave a wry grin. "If by 'amiss' you mean 'potentially disastrous' then yes, yes it would," she replied. "If your studies have been so inclined, perhaps you could try moving them without causing damage to them. I have studied only a little Herbam, and no Rego. I think I shall try to enter, though." She scooped up Aloysius into her arms, and attempted to walk forward to the area where the polecat had bumped his nose. She cradled Aloysius in her arms and walked over to the depression. As she neared it, she slowed her motion, not wanting to hurt her pet, and approached cautiously. Inching her way forward, she could feel Aloysius being pushed against her breast, gently at first and thereafter with rapdidly growing force until her pet decided he had quite had enough of the tightening embrace, and scrabbled over Eirlys's shoulder in a slightly painful manner. As he struggled free, Eirlys lurched forward, and stumbled hapharzardly into the depression. The faerie girl gasped as she made impact. Even before she collected herself though, she called out (perhaps a bit wildly): "Aly! Are you all right?" Scrambling back to her hooves, she turned around. Aloysius' fur seemed to be a bit thinner, and he was shaken, but otherwise intact. "I'm so sorry, my dear," she said sadly. "Well, I can't imagine what it might be. I doubt it's an Aegis, or I think I'd have felt something when crossing in; I always felt a tingling in my legs whenever I returned to Crun Clach without my yew wand with me, and it was the same tingling I felt when travelling to Horsingas for Tribunal... So, what does that leave us with," she pondered aloud. "Think, Eirlys, think. It almost seems like a Ward Against Beasts of Legend... but Aly, you're not magical, you're faerie-- so that shouldn't affect you. I suppose a version could be invented to affect faerie beasts, but it seems to me that would be a dreadful breach of etiquette in a fae forest. Not that we know for sure this IS a fae forest... but if it isn't, one would have no reason for a ward against them, now would they?" She began to pace as she continued thinking aloud. "You bumped your nose on it-- which means it doesn't affect your whiskers, just your body; so it can't be an Animal effect, or you'd have felt the resistance of the barrier with your whiskers as well. Now, I'd think it a ward against faeries, but you're not of wood, water, air, or the mountain..." she scratched her head. "Wait, Aly, are you a mountain faerie?" The polecat was grooming himself carefully. "My father is a goblin, it's true," he began, in between mouthfuls of fur, "But don't think you'll be pulling any Terram vis out of THIS rectum." Excitedly, he shook his rear. "I'm aaaall Animal." "Then nothing I've ever heard of would affect you and not myself." She tapped her chin with one finger as she racked her brain. "Aly, can you follow this barrier for me, and scratch out its dimensions into the ground? Let's at least see if it is a ring, and then let's worry about how to overcome it." Aloysius made a *harrumph* sound, deep in his throat. "You COULD just leave me here, and go on without me," he suggested cautiously. "Never," came the reply, without hesitation. Clearly happy to hear her answer, the weaselly creature scampered to accomodate Eirlys' request. Within a few minutes, Eirlys spotted that the arc he was scratching into the ground was hugging a shallow depression. "There's our boundary," she mused aloud. Eirlys turned towards Longinus, and spoke with caution in her voice, "I'm going to throw around some blind Perdo Vim. Would you mind moving far enough away that you're not in range of my voice? I'll be speaking quite loudly." Nodding, Longinus called Llewellyn to follow him, then called again until he was sure Llewellyn had heard, and carefully and slowly traversed around the shallow depression until they were well away from Eirlys and her companions. Eirlys :April 20 1220 The satyr folded her legs underneath her and hunkered down, elbows resting on knees, and chin resting on hands. "Well Aly, I suspect that perhaps you may be held at bay by a Terram spell, as you're descended of a mountain fae," she said in Welsh. "I should be able to dispel a fifth or sixth magnitude spell without too much trouble." There came the sound of trotting horses and a strong chill, but nothing happened. "Hmmpfh. Nothing." She began to pace more. Crouching in the dirt, she picked up a fallen leaf from the ground, then tossed it at the ring. The leaf fluttered harmlessly to the ground. She pulled a silk dress from her pack, and tossed it across the ring, where it settled lightly on the ground next to the leaf. She stuffed it back in her pack and muttered to herself. "Animal, Herbam... requisites... Vim... non-mundane..." "Sandor!" Eirlys bounced up. "Would you try walking through this area so I know whether it holds you at bay? Also, swing your mace at it?" Sandor nodded determinedly and stepped up to the edge of the depression. He carefully took his coin purse from his belt and held it out for Eirlys to take. When she had, he held his hammer head down and swung it around his body much like a pendulum so that it did meet resistance, it would not risk hurting him or any of those around him. Sandor stepped into the depression, continuing the gentle swing of his hammer. His hammer passed over the center of the depression with no resistance, so he started forward at a very slow walk - his first step carefully probing before him. His step, slow as it was, should have taken him over the center of the depression, but his foot slowed as it approached the center, and eventually stopped just shy of the depression's center point. The toes of his boot were visibly flexed, as if he was pressing against an invisible wall. Frowning, he leaned forward, both hands outstretched. His hands slowed down just as his foot had, eventually coming to a stop as if pressed against an invisible wall. Sandor braced himself against the ground and pushed with as much strength as he could muster, but the only movement he achieved was that of his feet sliding back on the old forest's ground cover. Sandor took a step back and turned to his mistress, motioning for his money pouch. From it, it took one of the small seeds he collected from the burnt clearing. He placed it upon the flat side of his hammer and slowly slid the hammer forward. Again, it passed through the barrier unheeded - seed and all. He withdrew the hammer and deposited the seed in his pouch again. He turned around and shrugged at Eirlys, stepping out of her way so that she might try to walk through. "Hmmm." The fae grumbled deep in her throat. Aloysius slinkered up to his friend and licked her leg, smoothing down a stray patch of fur. "I think you're making this more complicated than it needs to be." He scampered up her body to perch on her shoulder. Eirlys tapped her forehead with a finger. "You're probably right," she conceded. "I suppose were I some bumbling old mundie who wanted to abuse the resources of a forest without suffering the consequences, I'd just invent a really big Vim spell with a cartload of requisites, to keep out every kind of fae and any mundane Corpus." She raised her arms and opened her mouth, as though preparing to cast. The polecat shook his head, then lifted one paw and rapped a tiny claw against the girl's temple, in a mockery of her own gestures. "No, you nincompoop. How long do you think it's been since someone's been here? Do you really think anyone's been around to cast your 'really big Vim spell with a cartload of requisites?' every year? No! This nose and these eyes are as sharp as the formidable intellect they serve! And I can tell you, no one's been here for AGES! So why are you bothering trying to pick apart really old magic, invented by some crotchety old mundie wizard who spent seasons of his life trying to keep fae away from his summer hunting lodge?" "I don't see what---" Eirlys blinked twice, then sighed heavily as realization dawned on her face. "Of course! It must be an enchanted item maintaining a constant effect here!" Aloysius snickered. "So you just find whatever the object the enchantment is tied to, and destroy it. Just like when you got mad at Drystan and challenged him to that Perdo certamen"-- "Shut UP, Aly," she said through gritted teeth. "--but he picked Herbam and after he stomped you then he destroyed your staff? Heh, must have been really frustrating to lose something you spent that much time enchanting, to such a simple Perdo spell--" "ALY!" She shouted. "If you keep egging me on, I've half a mind to walk straight into this ward and not have to hear your ramblings." Eirlys walked to the boundary and peered in, careful not to fall in this time. "I don't see anything near the center," she said as she leaned forward. She craned her neck as she peered forward, but lost her balance and slipped. Sandor's hand shot out to steady her, and as Eirlys struggled to regain her composure, a look of understanding dawned on her face. She looked down to where one hoof had scuffed the ground. "Of course," she mused to herself. With an eager smile, the satyr held tight to Sandor's arm and began to kick at the shallow ditch, breaking the ring-shaped depression with divoted turf. "There," she grinned. "Let's go." Motioning for Sandor and Aloysius to accompany her, Eirlys walked in. Sandor strode towards the depression immediately after his charge, eager that she should not walk into danger without him by her side. He lept across the depression... ...and collided with an invisible barrier, the sound of his possessions slamming into his body as they came to a complete stop right after their bearer was louder than one might have expected. Sandor grunted and fell backwards from the barrier landing on hius bum, his nose bleeding freely down his face and running into his shirt. He was on his feet with remarkable agility, and sprang forward, careful to avoid crashing into the barrier again. His hand shot our to catch the arm of the maga Eirlys, his charge, but it his fingers just barely brushed the skin of her elbow. A series of throaty hisses emerged from the polecat's throat. "Are you trying to kill us, woman?" he grumbled. "Oh, poppycock." The satyr turned back to her friends. "Oh my!" She took a wool kerchief out of her pack (which Sandor was carrying) and began to dab at his face. "Are you okay?" she asked with concern in her voice. She fussed over his nose some more, but clearly had not the slightest idea how to treat a bloodied nose. Sandor gratefully took the kerchief and placed it on his upper lip, his other hand expertly pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the flow of blood. He smiled crookedly to Eirlys. "What about me?" whined the mustelid. "I think I might have broken something." He bounded up into his friend's arms, making pathetic poor-me sounds. Finding nothing wrong with her friend, Eirlys just began to stroke his fur reassuringly while she paced. "Well, what a pickle." Eirlys jumped up and down at the border, stamping her hooves in the kicked-up turf. "What did this old mundie do-- plant iron spikes in the earth for his ring?" With eyes narrowing, the satyr stared at the spot she'd previously dug at, preparing to cast. A few words and hasty gestures later, and a gaping hole a pace across had opened in the earth, just where they'd attempted to cross. Only the soil had been affected by her spell, as the edges of the hole were rough with plant and fungal matter. Spanning the gap was a single cord of what appeared to be copper. "Oh, tricky little mundie," Eirlys muttered. Gesturing to Sandor, she indicated that he should wait a moment, and then threw herself into a spell. With considerable effort, Eirlys managed to destroy a section of the copper wire. There was no powerful effect as the spells fell, and for a moment, she wasn't sure that she had succeeded, when Aloysius's small head popped up just inside, and scampered off toward Longinus. Fear and concern flashed in violet eyes. "ALY!" she cried, traipsing after him. Sandor's hand shot up after his mistress, trying to keep her from rushing off, but he missed, and she was dashing off into the trees. He didn't know what was wrong with the polecat, but he know that Eirlys would rush blindly into danger to come to its aid. Just as Sandor would for her. Without so much as a second thought, Sandor unslung his hammer and ran across the ring and after her. Longinus :April 20 1220 Further around the boundary, Longinus was still engrossed in his own investigations. After checking his Parma, he stepped across the boundary and waited for a moment to see if he could feel anything. His next step was to cast a variety of spells to see if there was any particular difficulties, hindrances or assistance to spell casting. He started with the spell he struggled most with, his own version of Wizards Sidestep. After taking any required time to recover (each time), he tried to recast it silently and then continued by throwing some Iron Darts through the ward at random trees. As Longinus stood motionless, pairs of darts lanced into tree trunks on the outside of the ward with a satisfying thuds. the darts, similar in size to heavy looking crossbow bolts, seemed to appear out of nowhere just behind his shoulder before burying themselves deeply within the tree trunks. He crouched for a moment, appearing to think deeply while recovering his breath. Once he was satisfied on that his magic was unimpaired by the ward, Longinus motioned for Llewellyn to join him. As Llewelyn pushed carefully forward over the depression it became immediately apparent that he was obstructed and he stopped, eyes alert, patiently waiting for the magus to resolve the situation. Longinus paused for a moment thinking, then cautiously pushed back across the ward to the outside. Carefully checking the surroundings for observation, and noting that Eirlys appeared to be engaged in conversation with Aloysius, he warned Llewelyn to be especially vigilant as he completed his next task. He then lowered his parma and immediately began to redo his morning ritual in the manner his Pater had taught him would enable him to cover Llewelyn as well. In a short time the ritual was complete. "It should be possible for us both to cross the boundary now" he told Llewelyn. "You lead, carefully. I wish to explore the centre of this little spot." The two crossed the ward, this time without any trouble, and began to cautiously advance toward the centre of the ward's influence. Beyond the ward :April 20 1220 As Longinus walked toward the centre of the ring, he could make out dark shapes amidst the trees. The trees thinned abruptly amidst a series of great, round depressions in the ground that lay scattered about haphazardly. Not far before him, stood a monolith, leaning at a slightly drunken angle, and covered with a thick layer of ivy. A couple of the depressions, that were between a few feet and twelve feet deep, contained rubble, a few pieces of faced stone, and in the case of the deepest depression, a good bit of water. Further ahead, he could just about make out some structures that were in a better state of repair. "Llewelyn, those structures ahead, I'd like to take a closer look at them. But first lets have a look at this monolith. Please clear away some of that ivy, just a small area for a start, a few handspans wide." Llewelyn moved forward to the monolith and begain to tear at the ivy covering a small area several handspans in diameter at about chest height. While he worked Longinus looked intently at the nearest of the depressions and began contemplating how best to work his arts. As he worked, Llewelyn revealed a dark cavity in the face of the monolith. Where he pulled away the ivy, parallel rows of ivy tendrils remained behind, clinging to the rock. Using his thick fingernails, he began to clear these away, pulling off strips of tendril and thick clumps of moss, revealing that the hole was surrounded by a strange border of simply carved figures that seemed to interwine slightly as they danced in file. Checking on Llewelyn's progress, Longinus moved forward for a close look at the cavity and associated carvings. "Hmmm, intriguing," he murmured. Cocking his head within his hood he spoke again to Llewelyn. "Please, continue. Once we have cleared this monolith then I think we should go and see how Maga Eirlys is faring. I'm sure she will be interested in this find as well." Llewelyn had gotten the hang of removing ivy, and had begun to pull it away in long, thick clumps, showering small pieces of dry tendril and detritus as it came free from the obelisk. As he set about pulling off the worst of it, a small furry face bearing a somewhat curious expression rose silently out of the undergrowth a dozen paces behind him and wrinkled its nose as it watched the strange human do whatever it was doing. With the ivy removed, it was clear that the obelisk was divided into wide horizontal bands, and in each band, figures had been carved, apparently protraying some sort of story. Each had slightly baby-like proportions, with heads nearly half the length of their bodies, and almost all of them appeared to be female judging by the simple dresses that most of them wore. Oblivious to the presence of Aloysius behind him, Llewelyn worked away, trying to pull the mats of small tendrils free from the carved designs. "That's not a bright idea, you know," the polecat mused. "There's no telling how the inhalation of faerie pollens will affect your human lungs. And the mistress will be furious when she learns you're killing the--" As if on cue, the satyr burst forth from the foliage and descended on the mustelid, sweeping him up into her arms. "There you are, I was so worried, you could have been hurt, don't rush off like that alone, I can't protect you if you go off without me," she babbled in Welsh. From behind her, the massive form of Sandor, mute warrior, came barreling out of the woods behind his mistress, towering over her, a look of consternation clearly displayed on his face. His hammer was in his hands and he was ready to take on anything that he might find. When he realized that it was not some danger, but the polecat that Eirlys had bounded after, he realized the irony of his frustration. Here the maga was lecturing the mustelid on rushing off alone, yet her she was, bounding off into a wood that was, for all they know, designed to defy the fae, yet she did not think twice about leaving HER protection behind! Sandor glared at Eirlys, grunting his frustration and raising his hammer up and down between chest level and waist level to chastise the satyr. Turning at the sound, Eirlys saw the unhappy glare on Sandor's face. With one arm cradling Aloysius against her side, she leaned back and touched Sandor's cheek reassuringly. "See that, Aly? You worried Sandor, too," she admonished, before setting him back on the ground. "Now, what is it you were in such a hurry to--" Her voice broke off as her eyes scanned the scene. Confusion registered on her face first, followed quickly by anger. "What part of "don't slaughter the forest spirits" did you NOT understand?" she spoke quietly, her voice quivering with a cold fury. "If you like having hands, I suggest you remove them from the plant life, countryman." Her eyes narrowed as she considered replacing Llewelyn's hands with little badger-paws at the ends of his arms; she then realized that if she wanted him to stop digging at the flora, badger paws would NOT be a deterrent. As quickly as her anger had flared, it subsided just as fast, as Eirlys burst into giggles. "Well met Maga," declared Longinus. He had assumed his customary posture but the look on his face was unusually expressionless. "I see you managed to get past the ward safely." He paused a moment, then inclined his head. "I would appreciate it if you would refrain from threatening '''my' shieldsman." Straightening, his voice turned a shade colder. "''Not least until you have used the wits that you no doubt have hiding behind that pretty face and effusive expressions of charm. This place is a Hermetic Place, warded against the Fae. Any spirits of the forest that are here should not have been so and I will not dance around my objectives to accommodate such intruders." The coldness in his voice softened and his head inclined once more. "Besides, any fae strong enough to have breached the ward should have had no trouble expressing themselves. Now, shall we inspect the carvings?" "Glad that you've made known your belief that a Hermetic magus claims dominion over whatsoever he desires. However, among my House, we observe a degree of respect for nature. 'Should not have been so', you say? Perhaps you should refrain from insisting others use their wits until you've extended that effort personally. A circular ward is not permeable in one singular direction. What bars entry also bars exit. Or perhaps you're unaware of your kind's penchant for destruction, carnage, and rampant disregard for life -- seeing as how it comes so naturally. It takes humanity to create, and yet humanity destroys by its very nature. You would do well to remind yourself that in the realm of Faerie, the fae are not the intruders." Her face hardened. "Perhaps you didn't notice the faerie aura all through the forest, despite that there was no sign of fae activity. I suspect this is a prison of some sort, meant to keep us within-- not without. You, however, believe it to be the claimed territory of a Hermetic magus. Care to hedge a bet? Nothing important we'd miss, of course. Perhaps the color of our eyes? You do have such lovely orbs, they'd be a perfect addition to my collection." The satyr proferred a hand, to seal the wager. Longinus stood stonefaced, arms still clasped, for a moment, then his face relaxed into a smile, though it appeared somewhat forced. "Maga, first I must apologise. I have prior knowledge which coloured my perceptions, knowledge which you have not had access to and may have impacted on your assertions. Second, I cannot take such a wager. Not only are your eyes a much prettier colour than my own, so the wager is not even, but my prior knowledge impacts directly on the wager. I could not in good conscience leach the colour from those pretty eyes of yours and I would not want to." Her face twisted in a wry expression. "Perhaps if you shared more information about what we are facing, your companions would be better equipped to handle it," she mused. "Now to your points. First, I believe a Hermetic Magus can and should claim dominion over that which he can control and has fair claim to. The ward shows a level of control and the fair claim aspect I will get to in a moment." "The capacity to drive away or slaughter the inhabitants of an area does not confer any moral claims upon that area," Eirlys countered. "Else we should immediately turn our gifts to restoring all of this to Rome." Interrupted, a slight grimace temporarily chased away Longinus' smile. "Rome?" he began, then stopped short and began again. "Second, I too observe a degree of respect for nature. It does appear to fall short of your own veneration of every leaf and blade, but so does it appear to exceed the respect you show to the Order, its members, yourself included I may note, and to mundanes." The satyr shook her head. "I have far less concern for the mundane leaf and blade, than for those which may be sentient," she explained. "In magical and faerie auras, most trees are... awake. They can perceive that which is around them, and possess intelligence. They are not themselves fae, but they are living, intelligent beings, just as a man or a faerie might be. As to the proportion of the respect I bear, I shall naturally hold those which do not disrupt the cycle of nature, above and beyond those that do-- which places the fae and sentient trees far above mankind, in my esteem. Natura veritas unica." The girl smiled. "The Bjornaer and Merinita, I know teach reverence for nature. The same cannot be said for those humans I have encountered outside of these two Hermetic houses, however. Men wearing iron in their hair, men destroying plant life simply because they wish to walk in that direction, trees burned to the ground, seemingly for no reason... it boggles the mind." Longinus stared at Eirlys with an expression of incomprehension on his face, then regathered himself once more. "Third, it is quite correct that a ward bars both ways. Such a large ward does not however seem quite so likely as a prison instead of a protected space. I must confess, the presence or absence of fae activity, other than the good Aloysius of course," this said with a short bow to the little polecat, "remains a mystery to me thus far, and I bow to your superior experience. There is also the point that you insisted we assume that every leaf and blade outside the ward could be fae-related, which somewhat negates any assumption that the ward is for keeping fae in rather than out." "Again-- flora with consciousness is not equivalent to faerie. The trees may well be awake without being faerie creatures. Faerie auras, like fae ourselves, are created by the stories, dreams, and myths of humankind. When tales of a locale generate an aura, and fae spring up in that area, the presence of those fae, dream and myth made manifest, thereby bolster the tales man tells of the place. This in turn strengthens the aura. If a place is forgotten entirely, the aura will wink out, and the faeries there either die, or they may retreat to the heart of Arcadia if they remain in the dreams of at least one mortal." Eirlys' face wrinkled as she grinned. "That is what I find so strange about this place. An aura of this intensity could not be maintained without a strong fae presence somewhere within it. If the fae here all left or died, then the aura would dwindle to nothing... unless the belief in this place is strong, but then, that would then create new fae to inhabit the aura... you see the quandary? There must be fae somewhere within this forest, and we've yet to find any. Yet here we have a ward against faeries, with no faeries without to keep out, in said faerie forest which must contain faeries in order to maintain the aura. If not without, it seems likely that they are within." "Vae maga! Its a big wood. We ..." Longinus paused for a moment, his robe sleeves twitching. "Fourth, humankind's penchant for destruction and rampant disregard for life covers a wide spectrum from person to person. Some are good and kind, some are evil and cruel. Most fall some way in between, or rather, are a mix. Certainly your observation shows either a distinct lack of experience or a deliberately malignant misinformation. I know little of the fae, but is it not also true that there are good fae and bad fae, ones that love and ones that hate, ones that revere life and ones that are callous and cruel?" He paused for a moment, his robe sleeves twitching. "Some fae may be viewed as 'good' or 'bad' but fae morality has many shades of grey, just as humanity's I'm sure. You will not find *any* fae who destroy nature. Ever. Such transgressions are mankind's alone." "Qualem muleirculam!" Longinus muttered under a long slow breath. "We must sit down some time and define the terms we are using in this conversation. They clearly do not match. Now where was I? Oh yes, the subject of the bet. The ward seemed not greatly powerful and without closely studying it I doubt it would have power enough to keep out the very strongest fae, say the lord of the forest. After all, by a simple extension of your Parma you managed to get Aloysius through it. What's more, even if it could keep out the Lord of the Forest, that would seem little use if the wards creators must brave a hostile forest every time they left this small warded area. That seems to me to indicate some level of agreement between Magus and Fae Lord. Since the ward stands, I'd guess that the agreement stands, making this Hermetic territory, fae forest or not. It also covers the fair claim aspect." She laughed. "Why would you think my parma would bring a faerie through a ward against fae? Even with the protection of my parma, Aloysius is still fae. I disagree with your concept of fair claim, but that seems an academic debate for another time. I hope, however, that you are correct in that the creator of the ward is on good terms with whatever neighbours may reside here." Longinus' brow furrowed. "He is here isn't he? Surely you extended your parma to protect all three of you, else we would not be standing here now having this argument?" She nodded. "That is indeed Aloysius you see, but the extension of parma to protect a faerie will not allow the faerie to cross through a ward against them. Perhaps were my parma significantly greater than Aloysius' own faerie essence, it's possible. As things currently stand, though, that would not work." "I must bow before your greater knowledge of the fae once more" replied Longinus, inclining, "though I am not so sure of the Hermetic truth of your statement". A puzzled look remained on his face. "But if you didn't get Aloysius through the ward using your Parma, how is it that he is here?" "The ward is gone, of course," was her reply. Longinus stared at the Eirlys. The puzzled look faded and was replaced by a single arched eyebrow. After a moment's contemplation he turned back to Llewelyn... The Standing Stone :April 20 1220 Turning back to Llewelyn, Longinus nodded. He spoke slowly and clearly in his native English. "My thanks to you. Do not mind her sudden mood changes. She seems to be quick to anger, but as quick to forget. I have warned her to remember that you are under my protection." Longinus then moved closer to the obelisk to inspect the carvings. "You just wanted a better look at this obelisk? Perhaps one might go about it WITHOUT the wanton destruction. If I may?" she said, approaching the stone pillar. There was a snicker behind her. ""Without wanton destruction" says the Perdo specialist," Aloysius sniped. "I remember the first time we went to Tribunal, and Caitlin's apprentice wagered you that you couldn't make the covenant's voting sigils weigh less..." He continued to tell his silly tale, though seemingly no one was listening. As he inspected the carvings, Longinus heard Eirlys begin to intone arcane words, and turning, saw that she was focused upon the ivy. As he watched, the ivy began to shimmer, and the waxen green hue began to fade to yellow, and then to a pale cream. The rough fibrous tendrils became smooth, and subdivided into finer and finer filaments, until it resembled the gossamer strands of a spiders web. She finished working her arts upon it, and beheld the monolith before her; a tall dark standing stone veiled by what looked like long strands of fine creamy-white hair. With the lightest touch, she disturbed the strands of silk, and with nary a rustle, they slid to the ground in a shower of detritus. Eirlys could help but notice the way that her Gift had responded as she had cast the spell, as though she was now stood in a magical area, rather than a fae one. The stone stood mostly bare now; the ivy and much of the decayed plant matter caught up in it had fallen to the ground. There was still dirt amidst the details of the carvings, but for the most part the designs upon the monolith were now plain to see. Longinus had seen the odd high cross in his troubles with their narrative panels depicting scenes from the bible, and this seemed reminiscent of that, yet older. The style of the people seemed to hark from an older time and the panels were bands that ran continously around the stone pillar in foot high horizontal strips. The lowest of the strips seemed to denote a single dancing figure, with higher strips involving more and more figures until the uppermost of the friezes seemed crammed with little figures performing their roles. Eirlys grinned. She had seen one of these stones before, in a faerie glade in a little regio that her grandmother, Esyllt, had taken her to when she was very young. She remembered skipping around it a few times, and the glade suddenly being bathed in soft light. Gran had used the place as a sort of outdoor laboratory for something or other, and used the pillar to provide illumination while she worked. Given the company, of course, it was best to keep such information to herself. "It looks like these are some sort of instructions," she called to Longinus. "The beauty of a dance shines from the inner fire, and that draws others into the dance... so I'd imagine we are to start at the bottom, and work our way up." With a smile and a twirl, the satyr fluttered to Sandor, reaching behind him to rap upon the wooden case which held his rebec. "If you wouldn't mind?" she asked. Sandor rose to his full and intimidating height, looking down upon the satyr, a dark look upon his face. Slowly, he drew his hammer from the hook on his belt and hefted it by the very end of the shaft. He turned away from her and walked to the edge of the clearing, where he stopped. He turned to look back at her and, very carefully, very intently, placed his hammer on the ground. Just as carefully, he propped his precious rebec up against a rock. He then proceeded to drop his pack, belt, a smile growing on his face. When finally he stood in his tunic, beeches and boots, his grin wide, showing mostly white teeth. He picked up the rebec and put his boot up upon the rock. He dragged the bow across the strings of the rebec and took a moment to adjust the tension of the stings against some wood dowels at the top of the next. Again, he dragged the bow across, and again an erie note played, but this time, in harmony - a minor cord. He choose an older song, one he knew that Eirlys enjoyed dancing to; it started of slow and a little mournful, but picked up pace as it approached a frenetic conclusion. He began to play. As the music swelled, Eirlys' eyes closed, and her body began to shift and sway in dance. She worked her way sunward around the huge black pillar, glancing at the carvings here and there to keep pace with the stone shapes. Very much preoccupied by the moment, it was not Eirlys, but Longinus who noticed that the forest seemed to be growing lighter as she danced. At first he was uncertain as to what was happening, but as the light grew steadily, it appeared that the leaves of the trees were possesssed of a verdant glow. The veins of the leaves were in silhoutte, and each leaf glowed brightest where thinnest, as though sunlight was streaming through the canopy from beyond, rather than coming straight from it. Longinus watched for a moment with a stiff face, then jerked his head at Llewelyn. "Come, I want to look at the ruins." and under his breath so that none of the others could hear "without being trampled." The pair headed off to investigate the closest ruined building. As Eirlys's dance came to an end, she found herself bathed in sunlight, where before there had only been the long, deep shadows of the forest. The whole clearing was lit, giving all present a feeling of pregnant expectation, as though a stage had been set. Eirlys could not help but notice that she had managed to perform the dance with nary stumble... in fact, she danced much better than she normally could. The satyr threw her head back and an odd barking sound emerged from her throat. She spun about, basking in the sensation of the warm fingers of sunlight tracing the contours of her face. "Come, Sandor, join me for the instructions inscribed on the second tier," she said, extending a hand. Sandor lay the rebec carefully along side his pack and quickly removed his boots. He stepped into the circle inscribed by Eirlys' dance and took her proffered hand. "Oh, but then we need music!" she recalled. "Aly, would you sing for us?" The polecat sniffed aloud. "I'm not a tool for your entertainment," he said disdainfully. "Of course not!" his friend replied. "But in order to dance, there must be music, and your marvelous voice would surely inspire me to the most fervent of dances." Aloysius drew himself onto his hind legs and smiled. "Well, I am quite the charmer," he conceded. "Very well." He clucked his lips together and then began a tune known well in the Courts of Winter, a bawdy drinking song about a doomed, torrid love affair between an undine and a dragon. She began to dance slowly about the stone in half time, so that Sandor might watch her movements and copy them. As she gazed at the stone, she found herself instinctively adopting a less obvious interpretation of a couple of the symbolic figures. She had seen the dance somewhere before, and somehow it seemed more natural to perform it another way. As she watched Sandor dancing behind her, she remembered her grandmother asking her to dance around an obelisk in the same fashion. She had been shown the dance just as she was now showing it to Sandor. She continued to dance around in a circle as she absorbed the memory, buoyed on by her small companion's singing, and as she came to the front of the obelisk, she remembered something crucial; her grandmother had placed something within the hollow in the front of the stone. As her grandmother had danced closer, she had felt a sudden, sharp pain as a few strands of her hair were yanked free with a sharp twist, and before she could complain, her hairs had been tossed into hollow, and a sharp wind had picked up. Perhaps an experiment for another time, Eirlys thought to herself. For the time being, she simply clasped Sandor's hands with a firm but flexible frame, and immersed herself in the joy of the dance. A closer look :April 20 1220 Meanwhile, Longinus and Llewelyn inspected the ruins. It was clear that whatever had happened here had been unpleasant for the residents. The big bowl-shaped depressions in the ground, to Longinus's expert eye, seem to have been the result of one of two types of effect. The first sort, a crisp spherical depression carved into the ground perfectly, with disregard for soil, stone, root, or trunk, seemed to be some sort of Perdo effect. The second variety of depression was much broader than shallower, and judging by the displaced soil, and the effects on trees in some instances, appeared to be some sort of explosive effect, possibly accompanied by fire. It appeared, without much doubt at all, that an extremely violent and fiercely contested battle of magics had occurred here. Naturally, the effect on the buildings was catastrophic; some buildings seemed to have simply vanished, in part or otherwise. There were chunks of stone, variously carved, hewn, or faced, scattered about from those which had recieved the explosive spells, invariably blackened. Toward the rear of the covenant, a single structure stood incongruously amidst the ruins. Amidst the twisted remains of what would have been an enormous tree, stood a simple tower of black stone. The tower was short, barely one and a half storeys high, and a quick inspection revealed that it possessed no doors or windows of any sort. It looked to be nothing less than an enormous block of Obsidian. Longinus stood thinking for a while looking at the devastation around him and remembering the Mercere notes he had looked at. Deciding he wanted both to inspect the tower from the top, and gain a different perspective of the wreckage, he used a head gesture to indicate to Llewellyn to stand aside. He then began a whisper, which quickly grew into a steady voiced chant, and a simple stairway grew down from the top of the obsidan tower reaching to the bottom. He then abandoned his dignity and quickly scampered up the steps before they disappeared. The great, towering block of obsidian was clearly of magical artifice. Despite its size, the top was perfectly flat and smooth -- so much so, that recent rainfall formed a shallow pool atop it, right to the very edge. Unless he disturbed it, the water seemed quite content to pool upto the edge, and then proceed no further despite teetering on the very edge. The top was free of detritus, which was odd for a large, flat surface in a forest, but this fact was overshadowed by the far greater puzzle of why anyone would erect an edifice such as this. Once at the top he rested for a period while observing the tower itself and its surroundings before repeating his spell to get back down to the earth. Once his feet were back on the naturl ground he took a moment to rest again, watching the staircase disappear once more. Then, nodding to Llewellyn, he proceeded carefully back to where Eirlys appeared to be winding down her dancing. The day wears on :April 20 1220 They had not spent more than an hour at the site when the tiny patches of sky visible through the dense canopy began to darken. Illuminated as they were by the glowing foliage, it did nothing to hinder the magi's investigations. As Eirlys completed her dancing Longinus settled himself comfortably against a nearby tree and waited patiently. When he was sure she had finished her exertions he coughed and said "Maga, the hour is late. I suggest we stay the night here, in relative safety, and head back to meet the others in the morning. What do you think?" Her face pinched curiously as she looked about at the ancient devastation. "I should think I might sleep better... elsewhere," she stated simply. "It is barely dusk, besides, and I am unused to fleecing clouds until the moon is high." "I do not think there is enough time to make it all the way out of the forest before full night settles in, Maga." He frowned as he continued: "And while you may be comfortable at night within a fae forest, I am not. Besides, what happened here happened long ago. I believe this place may be a relict of the Schism war." "You don't say," she replied dryly. "Regardless, we have a long way to travel, and making headway on that journey tonight before making camp, decreases the chances that we will have to stay yet another night in the faerie forest you find so discomforting." "I don't understand" he said, brow still furrowed. "We can't make it out tonight, but we made it here in less than a day so we should make it back out of the forest quite easiy tomorrow. And I definitely feel safer here, within a magic aura and an old ward, rather than in the true heart of a fae forest." An dark look crossed Eirlys' face. "Less than a day? It took the better part of today, and much of yestereve, to reach this point. It may or may not be more than a day to the forest's edge, but it will certainly be more than a day's journey to reach the hut on the Mynd. While you may feel safe camping beside a mundane road tomorrow night, rather than a faerie forest tonight, I do not." Her brow furrowed. "But if you're so enamored of the opportunity to close your eyes and sleep at a site of ancient demonic rituals, I can only wish you good night and good luck. I won't be joining you, though... I'll make camp when I've escaped the stench of fire and blood. Enjoy the false security of the completely unmagical broken copper circle, and do me the kindness of not calling me a liar again." Indignantly, Eirlys marched away, taking Sandor by the arm on her way out. "What?" said a stunned Longinus. "A fair eventide to you both, magus, countryman," Aloysius hastily said to the two men before he scampered off after his friend with a concerned look on his furry face. "Wait! Maga, Wait! What are you talking about? Come back!" called Longinus, but it was too late. He was left staring after Eirlys', Sandor's and Aloysius' retreating forms, trying to sort out what Eirlys had said and what it meant, while the sounds of their passage through the forest diminished. Longinus turned to Llewellyn. "Llewellyn, what do you see when you look around this place? It seems to me that many years, even centuries, have passed since this damage was wrought. Do you agree?" It was a strange place, right enough. Whether the forest had been swift to reclaim what had been taken from it, or whether the abundance of foliage and plant matter adorning the old buildings was the product of centuries was hard to say. The obsidian block looked new; carved with shiny precision, and quite clean, whilst the buildings the ruins seemed terribly old. Where an archway stood complete, it was clear that the ruins had sunk into the ground by a couple of feet. With the exception of a couple of structures which had benefitted from some minor magical effects, there were no roofs and few full height walls remaining in the place. Longinus sleeps where few do :April 20-21 1220 Leaving Llewellyn to prepare a campfire and some food, Longinus stood alone for a time in front of the obsidan tower, thinking and muttering to himself. "Ancient demonic rituals ... stench of fire and blood ... false security ... unmagical broken copper circle ... calling her a liar? ... what is she on about?" Suddenly he stopped muttering, spun on his heel and strode to where Llewelyn was cooking some sort of game on a spit. "Come Llewelyn, there is something we must check urgently. You remember the magical ward that you could not cross? We must go there and test it again, now. There is no time to waste.''" Llewellyn carefully put aside the meat he was cooking, banked the fire and rose to his feet, a disgruntled look on his face. Together the two retraced their steps to the place where they had entered the ward. Once there, Longinus had Llewellyn walk back and forth across the small depression several times with Longinus' parma covering him sometimes and suppressed other times, until he was satisfied that the ward was indeed no longer in operation. By now his face was set and grim with anger. Shortly after dusk they finished the testing and Longinus reset his parma to cover them both. As the evening gloom deepened, the two of them then slowly and carefully followed the small depression back to the place where their united party had first encountered the ward. They were about halfway when Llewellyn, leading the way, stumbled on a loose root. "Hold for a moment," said Longinus. He spoke a few words of Latin in a slow, precise manner and a small light appeared on the end of Llewellyn's spear, illuminating a few yards around them with a moonlight-like glow. The two of them then continued to follow the path of the depression. When Longinus encountered the gaping pit and bent over it to spot the two ends of copper wire he straightened, faced away into the forest and cursed aloud, slowly, deliberately and with great anger, three times. Feeling better, he turned back to Llewellyn. "Back to the campfire. We must eat while I decide our next move." Back at the campfire, Longinus sat in thought while Llewellyn finished preparing their food. After they had eaten, Longinus spoke again to Llewellyn. "Llewellyn. I think we are likely safer here than travelling through this forest through the night. It seems likely to me that with the ward having been active for so long, and no immediate disturbance apparent in its breaking, that the fact it has been broken may not even be noticed for some time by the denizens of these woods. Also this is a place of Magic, not a place of fae, so it may be that the fae will largely avoid this place regardless of the ward. Still, we should keep an especially alert watch tonight. The light on your spear will last 'til morning, but I suggest you keep it covered as much as possible during your watch. I will take the first watch and wake you when it is your turn." After a quiet watch spent mostly in thought about the ramifications of what he knew, had seen, and what Eirlys had said, Longinus woke Llewellyn and changed places. His sleep was disturbed and fitful though and he awoke just before dawn unrefreshed. Eirlys takes flight :April 20-21 1220 After they were well away from the destroyed covenant, Eirlys stopped suddenly. Her body shuddered as she took a deep, ragged gasp, clawing at her chest while gulping for air. Sandor stepped immedately to his mistress' side, a deeply concerned look on his face, as if to say, "What is it? What is wrong?!" "She's fine," Aloysius mused. "Magic auras always make her feel a little weird, that's all." My lungs, the maga thought. They ache from the smoke of burning flesh. Eirlys' face twisted into a grimace, then her breathing resumed its normal pattern. She continued to walk, but left her hand entwined with the large human's burly arm, for support. After a few minutes, Eirlys took on her owl form, and scouted above to determine the proper direction. She landed, and her form blurred back into the somewhat ragged-looking satyr. She pointed the correct direction for Sandor, then took his arm again and they resumed their journey. The three walked on in somber silence, until the sun had sank far enough below the horizon that Sandor's ability to navigate the increasingly dense undergrowth became impaired. He gently came to a stop, turned and looked down into the saytr's eyes, motioning to her that he was becoming concerned with how difficult it was for him to see. The satyr's eyes blinked back at him, uncomprehensibly. "I don't understand," she said to him. "Is there something wrong with my eyes? I feel like I'm constantly trying to blink smoke out of them, but I can keep them trained on our path well enough. Am I missing something important?" Sandor smiled slightly, then more broadly as he took a sash off his arm and tied it as a blindfold around his own eyes, binding away any hope of vision. Returning his arm to hers, he motioned that they should proceed. Eirlys stared blankly back at her friend. "Is this some sort of game?" she asked. "I'm really not feeling up to--" "No, you nincompoop, he can't see!" Aloysius interjected. "Remember? Human eyes? He's not fae so he can't see when it's dark." The satyr shook her head, as though trying to shake the confusion out of her head. "Oh, yes..." she mused. "Muto Corpus, ad Animal, should do the trick," she declared, then pulled the silk from his eyes as she firmly spoke some words in a strange, unintelligible tongue. As frost formed at the tops of his brows and lashes, Sandor's flinty grey eyes turned emerald green, and his irises elongated into slivers. His cat's eyes darted about a few times, as he adjusted to his night-vision being as keen as that of his fae companions. "Forgive my ignorance, my friend," she apologised. Sandor's smile was broad as he took her hand and put it to his cheek, as if to say, "No apology necessary." The satyr smiled wanly and nodded, threading her arm back through his, as though to continue their journey. Before either of them could take another step, though, Eirlys shuddered, and collapsed into soft, helpless sobs. Sandor dropped immedately to his knees beside her and looked helplessly at Aloysius. Without waiting for prompting, he took the slight saytr up into his arms and held her close to his chest. He stood there for a moment, wondering what to do, as the maga cried. All those people died, defending themselves, and protecting the innocents who served them, she thought. Was that Gran's home, before the Tremere and their pet Flambeau came with their fire and demon-magics? Did she see her friends burn before being forced to fly? The polecat climbed up Sandor's body and alighted on the satyr's chest. "Come now, mum, don't cry," he comforted her nervously. One paw scratched at his nose as he tried to think of the right words. "Those trees, I bet they lived good long lives before they got toasted into charcoal." Oh ye gods, their heart-tree... This only made Eirlys cry harder, and she pressed her face into Sandor's shoulder, stifling a few desperate sobs. Suddenly, her body jerked, and she struggled to be put down. The burly man placed his ward carefully back down on her hooves, but she fell onto all fours. Before he could assist her back to her feet, however, she had scrambled away, to retch violently into the underbrush. Sandor stood by, mute as always, a painful look of helplessness on his face. He'd gladly step between his mistress and a column of mighty knights, but this was an assualt against which he could neither defend nor stand. He stepped closer to the maga and stood by as she expelled the last of her stomach's contents. Eirlys took a deep breath, scrubbing her face against some moss at the base of a tree. Instead of cleaning her face, however, she just managed to add some green smudges to accompany the streaks of tears and dirt. "Oh. Moss," she mused, rising back to her feet. "There must be a stream nearby." And then it was back to business as usual, as though nothing had ever happened. She located the stream in short order, and jumped in without hesitation. She washed her face first, then scrubbed the rest of her body. The water had an icy chill, but her skin welcomed the sensation. Even were Eirlys not a winter fey, she imagined that her skin felt hot and covered with ash, so the crisp water felt cleansing on many levels. The satyr emerged from the stream, and then shook herself dry. "Ready," she declared simply. Eirlys took owl form as necessary, to determine the proper direction. The terrain was rough, but the towering Welshman was well-versed in forest travel, and between the three of them, navigation was a simple enough matter. The sky was blushing with early pre-dawn glow, when the intrepid band managed to locate the horse and cart they had stowed that morning. "Sandor, would you mind riding?" A concerned look on his face, Sandor looked back into the deepest part of the woods. He raised an eyebrow and pointed back in the general direction of ruined covernant. "No, we're not going back there," she replied. "And we'll make better time if I fly, and you ride." He shook his head to indicate that he'd not made himself clear. He tucked his hands into the seam of his tunic, making as though he were handless. Eirlys nodded. "There is but one horse, and three two-legs without flight," she clarified. "Longinus told us that walking was his preferred method of travel... and honestly, can you see him abandoning his precious dignity to share a saddle with his 'lowly servant'?" Sandor shrugged his shoulders in the universal gesture for, "I don't know." He made the motion of climbing into the wagon handless and sitting in the passenger seat. Again, he looked to Eirlys, eyebrow arched and questioning. "I don't know how much more time remains before the magic expires," she answered. "I should think the magus would be most put out with us should the cart revert into a tree, whilst he rode it. And most unfortunate that we should not be there to see the look on his face!" Sandor chuckled, climbing down from the wagon and up onto the horse. "Thank you, my friend." Eirlys then turned to her other companion. "Aly, we will make better time if you ride with Sandor. Would that be all right with you?" The polecat nodded affirmatively. "I will make sure he keeps his eyes on the road. But mum... shouldn't we stop for the night? Aren't you tired?" She shrugged indifferently. "I find that sleep sounds only slightly less appealing than food. Which is to say, almost not at all. I think we should travel until Sandor needs to rest, or until I can no longer push myself to continue." The mustelid furrowed his brow with concern. "Okay mum, but don't hurt yourself." "I'm not tired," she replied simply. "I don't think I could sleep, even if I tried." Eirlys took a few moments to locate an appropriate spot, where a tree would receive adequate light, and where the terrain would provide sufficient irrigation that it would be well-watered. A few attempts at a Perdo Vim, and the cart resumed its natural shape as an ordinary cedar tree. The satyr smiled slightly as she placed both hands on the sturdy trunk. "Grow strong, and tall," she whispered. "I don't know about this, Snowdrop," Aloysius murmured as he paced nervously. "An armed man, travelling on horseback at night, clearly not nobility... That would surely arouse suspicion, should any see us. Sandor would be mistaken for a brigand, and that could be some serious trouble." "I didn't realize," Eirlys replied. "Good thinking; I will scout for you. If there are travellers on the road, I will make a sound, 'hoo, HOO, cluck cluck CLUCK bark BARK' to alert you to get off the road and hide yourselves." The polecat snickered. "I don't think I caught that. Can you repeat that sound again?" "Hoo-HOO, cluck-cluck CLUCK bark BARK." Aloysius cackled with glee. "No no, again!" For the first time since leaving the horrible things she'd seen that day, Eirlys laughed. She traipsed about with her four-legged friend, making ridiculous animal noises and laughing. Finally, though, she picked up Aloysius and placed him upon Sandor's right shoulder. "I'm ready when you are," the polecat declared. Sandor made a clucking sound and nudged the horse's ribs gently with his heels. The horse began forward at an easy canter, as the silent snowy owl took flight. The Arcadians approach the cottage :April 21 1220 When the sun rose, Eirlys landed and resumed her satyr shape long enough to cast a Veil of Invisibility upon herself. She then returned to her owl form, and resumed travel on wing. She would occasionally alight on a branch nearby her companions, and make a few calls to let them know she was still with them. Ever conscientious of Aloysius' sensitivities, she took special care not to make any sounds of hunting calls, and to avoid clacking her bill. Eirlys scouted ahead, looking for the hut Ambrosius had spoken of. All she knew was that the cottage was on the Mynd, to the southwest of the village. Despite what little she knew of the location, her keen owl's sight spotted the movement of the far-off, hard-at-work people quite easily. Circling back towards her travelling companions, she gave the signal for the others to move off the road. When they reached a spot away from the path, she began to scrape in the ground. With one claw, she scratched two marks in the soil, about half a pace away from each other. One mark had a small vector-head, and the other mark was a short line pointing towards it. She then set to filling in the line between the two marks, in between taking flight to ensure the line was accurate. Finally satisfied with her work, she resumed her human form (though she was still not visible). "I've located the cottage. It is still a long ways off, but we should leave the road now to travel there as directly as possible. I will share the information we have found, but there is a task I must tend to as soon as possible after we are done with this expedition, so I wish to arrive as quickly as we can." She cleared her throat. "This line marks the direction where the cottage is. Sandor, I will trust to your sense of the wilderness to navigate there efficiently. I will aid you as I can with what I see from above. Two short barks and a hoot mean to veer left, and two short hoots and a bark mean to veer right." Sandor nodded his agreement, as Eirlys resumed her own form and took flight. As she spent more time in her winged form, the mentality of the silent hunter instilled its calm into the maga's troubled psyche, and Eirlys found her appetite returning. A slight movement below caught an eye; a grass snake was slithering about, sunning itself on a streambed. The great white owl curved her wings and slid into a dive; moments later, she caught the reptile within her beak. The serpent was much larger than anything else Eirlys had attempted to eat while in owl form, and she wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It struggled wildly, no doubt panicking at being held by an invisible captor. Curious, she thought, as she consumed it whole. Nothing had ever tasted better, nor been so filling. She took wing again, helping guide her friends toward the ever-nearing cottage. I'll have to remain in this form long enough to digest that, she thought. I wonder if I'll remain sated for weeks, as an owl would after such a meal? She hypothesized about the nuances accompanying shapechanging magics the rest of the way to the cottage. The serene silence of her owl identity instilled its stoic calm upon Eirlys' mind, preparing her to describe their adventures to the other magi with her usual cool composure, albeit with odd punctuations of whimsy. Finally, just about lunchtime, Sandor and Aloysius caught sight of the stone cottage, and they rode towards it, eager for hot meals and warm beds after their sleepless night. Longinus and Llewelyn make their return :April 21-22 1220 The next morning the pair broke camp early and immediately began their march back out of the forest. The march was wearying, moreso than on the way into the forest, for although the path was clearer than before, both Llewllyn and Longinus kept a perpetual sharp eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Several times, Longinus felt the pressure of being watched and resisted the urge to loose darts into the foliage. He wasn't sure how much was in his head and how much was real, and didn't much care to find out. They made fairly good time though, and it was only mid-afternoon when they broke free of the forest. Longinus was very tired by this time and considered for a while. Pointing toward the end of the Long Mynd, he said to the resting Llewellyn: "Let us make for the hill. We will stay clear of that small village over there and find a place to camp tonight well clear of the forest outskirts. But soon hey, for I am greatly in need of rest." A couple of miles out from the forest, Llewellyn pointed out a secluded copse of trees that would make a good campsite for the night and they stopped and rested there for the remainder of the day. That night they camped again, though Llewellyn this time was unable to provide fresh game. In the morning they again broke camp early. This time much better refreshed, they made good time cross-country to the foot of the Mynd. Once there, they discovered an old pathway that appeared to run mostly along the ridgeline of the Mynd. They were able to travel rather quickly to the top of the Mynd and then along the ridgeline in a southwesterly direction. Continued Next page: Meeting in the old stone cottage. ---- Category:1220 1220Q2 12200419 12200420 12200421 12200422 Category:Eirlys Category:Sandor Category:Aloysius Category:Longinus Category:Llewellyn